


For a Good Time, Call

by ThisWasInevitable



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Begging, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Fuckbuddies To Lovers, Hook-Up, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, Reader request, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Trans Duck Newton, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, in a loving way, indruck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: A reader requested: " I ripped this off a fic ask list can you write indruck my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick AU"





	1. Late Night Romeo

**Author's Note:**

> I put Duck in his thirties rather than forties for this, to put more of a gap between him and Mama.

“May I sit here?”

Duck turns, finds a pair of dark brown eyes and a mess of silverish hair. The man’s face is so coated in glitter that his features are hard to pin down, and he could be anywhere from 25 to 55. He’s in a crop-top that reads “I’m a crytpid few can observe” and short-shorts that were definitely once jeans. 

“Sure.” Duck shrugs. He’s not wild about having someone else in the dark corner where he’s catching a breather, but the guy looks pretty frazzled. 

“Oh thank you so much. I, well, I’m enjoying myself but I’ve become a bit overstimulated.” He settles onto the other end of the pleather couch from Duck. He sips his La Croix anxiously, worrying at his rainbow nails. Duck’s catapulted back to ten years ago, when he first came here, then back five or so to when he and Aubrey brought Dani.

“First pride?” He asks, casual and friendly.

“Yes! Oh dear” he notices Duck taking in his outfit and his gaze goes skittish, “is it that obvious?”

“Kinda. Hey, nothin wrong with goin all out, especially your first go around.”

“I suppose I felt like I had some catching up to do. Got a bit of a late start, as it were.”

Duck nods, understanding there’s a story there that one doesn’t tell a complete stranger

“I take it this isn’t your first?”

“Nope, I’m an old hand at this point. Makes it easier to feel like I can come dressed like someone’s dad.”

“DILF is more like it” The stranger takes a sip, then freezes in embarrassment.

“Oh dear, that was, I’m sorry-”

“No need to apologize” Duck grins, shifts his body so he’s turned towards the other man, spreading his legs and giving him an unobstructed view of his solid, vaguely-bear shape. He knows he’s not everybodys type, but to a certain kind of guy he’s like catnip.

It seems like his new friend is in that second category. His eyes start at Ducks toes, drawing slowly up to take in the rest of him. Ducks thighs, chest, and face get extra beats of staring, long fingers tightening around the aluminum can as the stranger meets his eyes.

“You really come over here just to rest? Or was there, uh, somethin else you wanted too?” He drawls, tracing a finger back and forth across the top of the couch. 

“I, I really did, but, well, you being here made this the most appealing of the available spots.” He’s moving closer to Duck, little by little like a moth to a lantern, as if everything else in the room is gone. The closer he gets, the more Duck's able to note how weirdly cute he is. 

“I see” his hand is close enough that Duck chances taking it. It’s cool, pulse a butterfly flutter under the skin, “If you wanna put the moves on me, sugar, I ain’t gonna complain.”

“I would, so very much. But would it be alright if we talked a little more before we, uh, y’know?” His leg is bumping up against Duck’s vibrating nervously. Duck brings his other hand down to rest on a narrow thigh, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Fine by me.”

\-------------------------

Duck kicks the bathroom door shut, the other man reaching around him to fumble the lock shut, unwilling to break the kiss they’ve been sharing for the last minute or so on their way here. It's eager, more fumbling than finesse, and Duck is loving every second of it. 

“What’ll be, sugar?”

“Any, anything you want, oh goodness.” A laugh flutters out of his stomach when Duck pushes him against the door.

“How about I suck your dick?”

“_yes_ , yesyesyes.” The taller man yanks down his shorts as Duck drops onto his knees. 

“Hel_lo_” Duck purrs, wrapping his fingers around the half-hard cock in front of him. It fits in his hand perfectly, and he cannot wait to find out how it feels in his mouth.

“In my, my shorts, pocket, there’s a condom.”

“Came prepared, like that in a man.” Duck pulls the condom out, smiles.

“Banana Split?” He opens the package

“I like the way it smells!”

“That what you wanna do after this? Split me with your-”

“If you refer to my dick as a banana I am pulling my pants up.” He’s giggling, brown eyes watery with amused tears.

“Don’t you dare” Duck growls, rolling the condom on and taking the head between his lips. 

“Ohhhhhhhh” There’s a thunk as the back of his head hits the door, hips pushing his cock forward in Ducks mouth. There’s a Luna Moth tattoo above his left hip, a Sun Moth on his right. Duck rests his hand on the luna moth, strokes the shaft with his right as tongue continues teasing the head. 

The hip beneath his hand is trembling. He pulls his head back enough to speak.

“Ain’t a museum, sugar, you can touch.”

The hands pressed flat on the door fly to tangle in his hair. He kisses his inner thigh once, and another laugh bounces around the room.

“B-beard, tickles, ahOHohhh.” Duck swirls his tongue around the tip, grips harder on the shaft. Keeps teasing the head even with other man nudges towards his lips.

“Somethin you want.”

“Your mouth, it’s lovely, please let me back in.” It’s oddly formal, delivered in a breathy plea, and it sets off a familiar urge. He wants to hear him beg some more, he wants to watch him squirm.

“You want in? Gotta ask better than that.”

“Please, _please_, it feels so good, I need it, I need you, oh god, I will be so loud they’ll hear me over the music if that’s waht it taAAAAkes.” He ends in a high moan as Duck swallows him down to the root.

“Holy shit” he whispers.

Duck locks eyes with him, smug grin on his face, moaning once around his cock. 

The stranger cocks his head.

“I see.” A wide, knowing smile spreads across his face, “You like showing off, don’t you?”

Duck nods, draws his head halfway back before taking it all again. The cock just bumps the back of his throat, as if it was designed to fit in his mouth without choking him. He bobs his head, hollows his cheeks, runs his tongue along the bottom as best he can. 

“Mmmmm, you do make quite a sight, ohOH, do that again, yes.” The fingers in his hair tighten, making him moan.

“You’re s-so handsome, won’t you look at me while I come in your mouth?” The sweetness in the question is underscored by something firmer, closer to a challenge, and Duck rises to meet it. He stares up into those brown eyes, the pupils blown wide, watches them squeeze shut as the stranger moans, high and sharp, as holds his head flush against his body.

He releases Ducks dark locks even as he pants through his orgasm. Duck nuzzles the coarse hair briefly before pulling back, wiping spit and lube from the corners of his mouth.

“Goodness, you’re incredible at that.” Slender fingers stroke his cheek as the other man directs an awe-filled look at him.

“Misspent my youth in all the right ways.” Duck grins, kisses each tattoo on a whim

“I, I can reciprocate, if you’d like. Can’t promise I’ll be as good.” His smile has gone shy again.

“Don’t worry, tell you exactly what to d-”

_Beebly beep_

They both look at Ducks pocket.

_Beebly beep_

“Fuck, hang on, I’m here with a buncha friends and some of ‘em have a habit of gettin into trouble.”

_Beebly beep_

“Go for Duck.”

“Hello my friend, might you be in the vicinity of a getaway vehicle?’

“Jesus, Ned, what did you do now?”

“I did nothing. Boyd, on the other hand, may have gotten into an altercation with the fundamentalist protestors.”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll come bail your asses out. Again.” He clicks the phone off just as the stranger gets his shorts back on. “Can’t believe I’m gettin blueballed by Ned Fuckin Chicane.”

“Can I give you my phone number?” The stranger worries his lip, still a bit kiss-swollen, “In case you feel the need to collect on my offer another time.”

“Sure.” Duck hands him his phone and the other man hurriedly types in a number, giving it back as they step out of the bathroom. They say a friendly goodbye, and it’s only when he’s halfway to the car that he realizes he didn’t get the mans name.

He looks at the new number in his contacts, thinks for a moment, and then smirks to himself as he types, “Mothman” into the empty space.

\-----------------------------------------------------

“Sure you don’t want to come to my place, keep the night going?”

“Yep.” Duck’s teeth are clenched, and he’s got a headache from listening to this asshole for the last two hours. The guy’s belittled Ducks job (“what, you look at trees all day? Boring”), his hobbies (“who the fuck builds model ships anymore?”) and his body, (“y’know, if you toned up more you’d be even nicer”).

“C’mon, not like you’ve got anything better to do.” The guy has a sparkling smile, and he’s’ turned heads from passersby and other diners all night. But his features are taking on an edge Duck doesn’t like each time Duck tells him no.

“Buddy, lyin face down on the floor contemplatin my own mortality would be more fun than goin home with you.” He gives a sarcastic wave before ducking into his cab.

What’s annoying is that he’s been low-level horny all day, and was hoping his date would be the kind that ended in bed or at least in some finger-fucking on the couch.

Winnie greets him with a raspy meow when he gets home, and he tells her his troubles as he tosses his nice clothes into the hamper, stripping down to his boxers. 

He flops on the bed, phone in hand, thinking he might text Ned to complain. His friend is a master at making him laugh at his own misfortune.

Instead, his thumb comes to rest over the “Mothman” line. He gets a flash of those high moans, that perfect dick. 

Huh, the guy did say Duck should contact him if he was interested in hooking up again. But would it be weird if it’s been over a month? Would the guy even remember him?

Eh, what the hell, he’s horny and headachy and has nothing to lose.

_Duck: Know this is outta the blue, but we met at pride and you gave me your number._

To his surprise and excitement, the reply is almost immediate.

_Mothman: To be sure I don’t embarrass myself, are you the one who gave me the excellent blow-job and who has a friend with very bad timing?_

_Duck: Yep. Was wondering if you’d be interested in finishing what we started._

_Mothman: In theory, yes. But I’m out of town for the next few months for work. _

_Duck: Damn, okay._

_Mothman: Believe me, were I around, I would already be on my way._

Duck resigns himself to getting off to his favorite video when his phone chimes again.

_Mothman: If you wanted, we could try sexting._

_Mothman: That’s the right term, right?_

_Duck: Last I checked. You wanna send me dirty pictures ; )?_

_Mothman: I was thinking more words, but I could send you a picture of my dick, if you wanted. _

_Duck: Hell yeah._

_Mothman: I’m not comfortable sharing my face in photos of that kind, if that’s okay_

Duck’s halfway through his response when:

_Mothman: Not that I don’t trust you, but that’s come back to bite me before_

_Duck: Shit, that sucks. It’s okay, whatever you wanna send is fine by me._

_Mothman: Are you in bed?_

_Duck: Yep, in my boxers. _

_Mothman: Ooh, how raunchy. I’m in pajama pants._

Duck smiles, hearing the teasing smile, the lilting voice in his head. Decides to take the next step

_Duck: Take them off. And I better see proof you have._

He gets dots for a moment, crosses his fingers. The next message includes a photo; tan skin, bony hips with a moth on each one, and a perfect cock that’s getting hard. He slips his hand into his boxers, starts teasing himself. 

_Duck: Aww, you getting hard just from texting me, sugar?_

_Mothman: Been touching myself since you agreed to this. God, just thinking about your smile drives me wild._

_Duck: My smile, huh? _

_Mothman: I didn’t get to see much else._

This is followed by a pouty face, and Duck laughs.

_Duck: You wanna see more?_

_Mothman: Please_

_Duck: Hmmm, not convinced you want it._

_Mothman: Pretty please with a cherry on top? _

_Duck: Maybe…._

Another photo comes through: A cock hard and shiny with pre-cum.

_Mothman: See how much I want it?_

Duck pulls his boxers off, kicks them off the bed. Takes a decent shot of his dick, legs spread wide to show off how turned on he already is. Hits send

_Mothman: Oh GOD, thank you, I wish I were there._

_Duck: What would you do?_

There’s a pause, and when the answer it comes through with the tell-tale typos of someone texting with one hand.

_Mothman: I tease you with my tongue, wind you up until you grabbed my head and shoved me down, told he exactly what to do, moved my head like it was a toy for you to fuck._

Duck sucks in a breath, slips two fingers into himself and moans at the scene. 

_Mothman: You’d show me how to make you cum, if I didn’t do a good enough job I;d stay on my knees, let you fuck my mouth over and over until I got it right._

_Duck: Fuck yeah I would, wanna see my cum all over your face._

There’s a beat, followed by another photo. That dream-worthy cock, flat against a stomach whose muscles are taught with effort, come spreading around his belly button. 

He keeps his eyes on the photo as he pictures dragging his tongue along the shaft, the man beneath him writhing and whimpering from sensitivity. 

The orgasm hits him hard, relief coursing through him side by side with pleasure. His headache is gone in an instant. 

_Duck: Just came. Damn, you ain’t half bad at that._

_Mothman: Thank you. Would you want to do that again sometime?_

_Duck: Fuck yeah. Text me anytime, sugar_

\-------------------------------------------------

“Anytime” turns out to usually be around 2 or 3 a.m. Not that Duck minds, it’s worth it every time. The other man never fails to ask before sending a dick pic, often texts Duck for a few minutes afterwards as they each come down (sometimes it's the text version of sweet nothings, other times bad jokes). There’s a sweetness to him that makes the absolute filth he sends Duck during their sessions all the better. 

He still isn’t back in town, won’t be until October, and Duck hasn’t asked if he wants to meet up when he returns. But given that they’re now comfortable enough to send videos back and forth (still no faces), he thinks his odds are good. 

He isn’t the only one with plans for his dating life, though.

“You comin to the Halloween party Duck?” Mama asks when she stops by the front desk of the ranger station.

“Yep, wouldn’t miss it."

“Good. My son’s comin with me, think it’s high time you two met.”

“Lord, Mama, not this again.”

“Yes this again.” Mama leans over the desk, fixing him with a knowing stare, “you been complainin to Dani and Thacker that you can’t find a decent fella to date. I got one for you.”

“You ain’t told me anythin that makes me think we’d hit it off. He’s an artist, right? Why would an artist be interested in park ranger?”

“Why wouldn’t he. Look, Duck, I wouldn’t be buttin into your love life, and lord knows I wouldn’t be thinkin about who my son is sleepin with, unless I had a good feelin about it. C’mon, am I usually the meddlin kind?”

“No” Duck mutters, knowing she has a point.

“Just humor me, okay. Talk with him for a bit when he’s here, if you ain’t feelin it, then you don’t gotta force it on my account.”

“Alright alright, I’ll do it. But you better not fire me if it don’t work out.”

“Please, you’re the best thing to happen to the forest service since waterproof boots. You ain’t goin anywhere.”

\-----------------------------------

_Sugar: ...you’d use me until I soaked the bed in sweat, begging for release, fuck me once, hard and fast, and then leave me there until you decided it was time for me to come and ride me until I screamed._

Duck shoves the toy deeper, flips back to video that came before the words, that perfect dick thrusting raggedly into a fleshlight as soft, frantic moans drift through the frame. 

His orgasm isn’t earth-shaking, but fuck does it feel good. 

_Duck: Thanks sugar, that felt real fucking good. You get off?_

A picture comes through of a cum-coated stomach and a thumbs up.

_Sugar: Oh, I’ll be back in town at the end of next week. Would you like to meet up?_

_Duck: You bet your fucking ass I would. I got a thing Friday night, free otherwise. Wanna meet at The Lodge? Friend of mine works there and it’s killer. _

_Sugar: That works for me. _

_Duck: Can’t wait_

He attaches a kissy face to that one, because why the hell not? Just because he’s seen the guys dick doesn’t mean he can’t flirt.   
\-----------------------------------------------

The annual Halloween Lost Forest hike done, meaning the rangers can close up the visitor center for their own, special Halloween celebration. Duck finishes putting away the flashlights he used to lead the hike, and heads into the lobby. 

He makes it two steps before Mama spies him, jerking her head to indicate, “get over here.” She’s speaking to someone who Duck can’t see, and as he reaches them he hears the tale end of it.

“...the fella I been tellin you about. Duck,” she steps back, revealing a man with red glasses, an angular, captivating face, and white hair with black roots showing through. 

“I’d like to introduce you to my son, Indrid.”


	2. The First Time?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid has to hand it to Mama; she was right that the charming ranger is his type.
> 
> Now if only he could figure out why the man seems so familiar....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick content note: Indrid references have an abusive partner, and having homophobic parents. I don't go into a lot of detail, but it's clear in both cases what happened.

Indrid takes in the man before him. If nothing else, Mama has certainly learned his type. Duck is sturdy, with muscular arms and a relaxed, charmingly imperfect smile. There’s a softness to his body that makes him seem like he’d be lovely to cuddle up against. The same quality is in his clean-shaven face, making him look slightly younger than the laugh lines indicate. 

Indrid is also 110% certain he’s seen Duck somewhere before. He simply can’t put his finger on where. 

He adjusts his red glasses, a tic he developed almost immediately after getting them, as Mama finishes her introduction. 

“Whelp, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted, Gotta make sure Barclay ain’t makin out with his fella in our supply closet again.”

The two of them stare at each other, Duck brushing dust from his jacket.

“I must admit, it’s a bit hard to find small talk when Mama’s told me so much about you already.”

“What’s she been sayin?” Duck seems curious, not like he’s fishing for compliments, which makes Indrid all the more inclined to give them.

“That you’re an excellent ranger with a particular interest in native trees, that you’re a keen hiker, you have a cat, you can’t lie your way out of a paper bag-”

“Hey!”

“Is she wrong?”

“Damn uh, damn, right, she is, uh, I can lie, better than uh, anythin that lies.”

Indrid arches an eyebrow in hopes it will keep him from laughing at the horrendous fib. It doesn’t. To his relief, Duck laughs along with him, an absurd, infectious sound. 

“Okay, she’s got a point. Gotta say, we’re in the same boat; she’s talked about you enough that I ain’t sure how to get to know you.”

Indrid taps his wine glass (filled with sparkling cider; he can’t stand the taste of alcohol), mulling over ways this could go. He does want to talk more with Duck. Even if they have no interest in dating one another, he seems like a good man to know. 

“Would you like to see the final drafts of some drawings I’ve been working on? I put them in Mama’s office for safe-keeping.”

“After you.” Duck gestures and Indrid heads towards the double doors back into the offices, the ranger following close behind. When they reach Mama’s office he flips the light on, slips the papers from their folder, and gets the distinct feeling Duck is sneaking a glance at his ass while his back is turned. 

“Mama said you been up North the last couple of months?”

“Yes, for a different project than this one. An author who insists on working in person. It’s only because the pay is decent that I was willing to spend any time up where it’s already snowing. 

“Ain’t a fan of the cold?”

“Not at all. If I could spend the winter buried in bed under a pile of blankets, I would. I always get so chilly.”

“Maybe you just ain’t found the right way of warmin up.” The flirtatious edge of the comment is so casual that Indrid almost misses it. His mind supplies an image of him under the covers, Ducks body a warm, safe weight above him as they fuck. 

He wishes he could place Duck’s voice, wishes he knew why his lizard brain is turned on by it so quickly.

“Here they are” he says with a flourish as Duck steps next to him, “I have digital versions as well, but physical copies make it easier for me to envision how it’ll look as a book.”

“You do mostly kids stuff, right?”

“I’ve made a modest name for myself in the picture book world, though it’s far from the only work I do. This will be a children's book, teaching them about why animals that people think are frightening or gross can actually be quite remarkable, and often don’t mean any harm.” He traces a finger fondly along the page for “bats," which shows a little brown bat chasing a bug and a long-nosed bat drinking from a cactus flower. 

When he looks to his left, Duck has set his drink down a safe distance away and is gazing intently at the drawings. Indrid keeps quiet, watches his profile as studies each image, enjoying the little smile or look of concentration that flickers across it. 

It’s when he reaches the last drawing, “vultures,” that the ranger speaks. 

“Which type of vulture is this?”

“A black-headed one.” He steps beside him to look at the image

“These ain’t been colored yet have they?”

“No, we’re in the last stage of edits.”

“Then you’ll wanna change this fellas head-color. You drew him in a coastal redwood, yeah?”

“Yes…”

“That’s Turkey Vulture country. All you gotta do is make the head pink.” He seems about to say something else when he looks up. Then he clears his throat, embarrassed.

“Sorry, I shouldn’tve lead with that. Just, these are all so fuckin cool, and you seem real proud of ‘em, didn’t want to let a mistake slide without mentionin it in case it was important to you to have everythin exactly right, but you can tell me to shut up-”

“Duck” he rests a hand on the rangers forearm, “I’m glad you said something. You’re right, it is important to me that it be accurate. Thank you.” He trails his finger along Ducks shirt, and the shorter man meets his eyes with a smile. 

“Besides, I’d rather hear it from you than from an angry online comment.”

Duck groans, “Mama told you about that huh?”

“She may have mentioned something about a bad Yelp review involving an owl.”

“I had signs up on every tree sayin the female in that nest was aggressive in protectin her young, and red tape to boot. Not my fault some numbskull ignored all that because he was tryin to make a video.” Duck huffs

Indrid pats his arm with genuine sympathy “Poor Duck. And poor mother owl.”

“Hey, she didn’t have some rich kids father callin tryin to get her fired.” He turns towards Indrid, a conspiratorial look in his eye, “you wanna see the troublemaker?”

Indrid grins, “Absolutely.”

\-----------------------------------

“There she is.” 

Indrid follows the line of Ducks hand to an owl box, where a white head peeks out.

“Chicks’ve all fledged, but we still oughta keep our distance. She’s an ornery one.”

“She’s beautiful.”

The October air is pricking through his sweater. Duck moves his arm so his hand is resting on the other side of Indrids body, hand settled on the log they’re sharing. It’s not an advance, more of an invitation and Indrid accepts it. He nestles so they’re side to side, legs and shoulders pressed together, Duck warm and solid against him. 

“Well, worth sittin out in the cold?”

He thinks about how Duck animatedly explained the plant and animal life they encountered on their way into the woods. How he’d listened to Indrid describe his illustration process in a way that suggested he was actually paying attention, rather than pretending to. The way his profile looks in the dim moonlight. 

“Most definitely.” 

Duck glances at his watch, “damn, been out here longer than I thought. Lost track of time. Must’ve been the company.” There’s that grin again, easy and casually flirtatious.

They walk back to the visitor center, chatting about their winter plans. When they reach to doors, Duck stops, turning to him. 

“I, uh, I had a real nice time talkin to you. Ain’t sure about datin, but I’d like to get to know you more.”

“Likewise.”

“I got plans tomorrow evenin, but would you like to grab lunch? We can meet at my place, there’s a little diner down the street that’s good.”

“I’d like that very much.” 

Indrid smiles as they detour into the offices so Duck can jot down his address. Not only will be be seeing his favorite hook-up in the flesh tomorrow, he’ll be having lunch with a handsome, charming ranger beforehand. 

Lucky him.

\---------------------------------------

_Lucky me_ Duck thinks as he rolls over in bed the next morning. Indrid will be in his house in a few hours. And tonight he’ll finally, _finally_ get to see his long-distance fuckbuddy, get his hands on that perfect dick and make the other man squirm and scream with pleasure. 

The timing couldn’t be better, given that lunch is going to leave him more than a little horny. He was honest when he said he wasn’t sure if he was ready to date Indrid, but the taller man tics more than a few of his boxes. And last night, whenever Duck instigated a friendly touch, Indrid reciprocated, hands and gaze lingering longer than strictly necessary. Who knows, maybe in a few weeks he’ll find out if Indrid’s cock measures up to his mystery mans’.

There’s a knock on the door one minute after noon. Duck opens it to Indrid, smiling brightly and holding a paper bag. He’s in a “Point Pleasant” sweatshirt and black jeans, dark patches in his silver-dyed hair more noticeable under the fluorescent hall lights. 

“Hello again.”

“Hey. Glad you found the place, gimme a sec to get Winnie settled and then we can head out.”

“No rush, I don’t have anywhere to be until 6. Do you actually mind it I change? This sweatshirt has quite a bit of paint on it, some of it fairly new, and I'd rather not wear it out in polite society.”

“Not at all, bedroom's down the hall and to your right.” He finishes making Winnie a blanket nest on the couch as Indrid disappears, then heads down the hall and knocks on the bedroom door.

“Come in!”

“Just need to grab my shoes, then we can-” his small talk dries up in his throat. Indrid is midway through removing his sweatshirt, and the shirt beneath it has caught and ridden up in the process. 

Peeking over the waist of his jeans are the tops of two tattoos, one on either hip: The wingtips of a Luna Moth, and the wingtips of a Sun Moth.

Indrid finishes pulling off his outer layer, smooths his white t-shirt before he notices Duck staring. Glances down, then back up with a small grin of understanding.

“Oh, my tattoos?”

Duck nods, his brain making the same sound as his old dial-up internet. 

“I designed them myself. Do you, um, like them?” His brow furrows when Duck steps closer.

“Uh huh. And I got a feelin you won’t be needin to be out of here by six. Sugar.”

Indrid’s eyes go comically wide behind his glasses.

“W-what do you mean?”

Duck takes another step, grabs Indrids belt loops, and pulls down to reveal the tattoos in full. 

“I seen these before, Indrid. Usually with sweat drippin down ‘em and the fella who has ‘em beggin me for permission to come.”

He can practically see the lightbulb crackle to life above Indrid’s head.

“You, I, Pride?”

“Yep. Did you-”

“I knew I’d seen you before, but you look so different without the beard-”

“When the hell did you get glasses? And you didn’t recognize my vo-”

“Voice, your voice is different when you’re moaning in a cellphone video but I still can’t believe…”

They lock eyes again. 

And burst out laughing, Indrid covering his mouth as laughter bubbles out between his fingers and Duck wheezing with loud, uncontrollable giggles. 

The giggles don’t stop even when he realizes, with horror, “Oh fuck, I fuckin sent DICK PICS to my bosses son! Jesus, fuck, I’m so fucked.” He sits heavily down on the bed

“Consensual dick pics.” Indrid squeaks out another laugh, kneeling on the floor to run his hands reassuringly up Ducks legs, “And rest assured I have zero desire to tell Mama the details of my sex life, just as she has zero desire to hear them.”

“That’s a relief.” He inhales, surprised, when Indrid drags a thumb along the inside of each thigh.

“Perhaps lunch can wait?”

Duck chuckles, a lower, hungrier laugh than before, “Somethin you want, sugar.”

“Many, many things.” He undoes Ducks belt “but if you’re interested,” he pops the button on his pants, “there’s a blowjob I’ve been wanting to give for months.”

“Fuck yeah.” Duck yanks his pants and boxers down, Indrid shifting back so he can kick them off without whacking him in the process. When he scoots back Duck cups his chin, running his thumb along it thoughtfully.

“Seem to recall you askin me to teach you just how to get me off.”

“Yes.” Indrid breathes out, lips parted and relaxed. 

“Take these off” he taps his glasses, “cause I’m gonna use you _hard_, and it’s rude to break a fellas glasses when he’s suckin your dick.”

Indrid takes the frames off, sets them on the bedside table. Then he dives between Ducks legs, licking haphazardly just below his dick. His enthusiasm is appreciated, but his technique could use some work.

He takes his head with both hands, and the man goes still. Duck tangles his fingers into his hair, pulling up lightly so Indrid has to lift his head a little. 

“Try again, start with the tip of your tongue.”

Quick, exploratory licks tease at his folds, Indrids eyes shutting in concentration. 

“There we go. I ain’t hard yet, so you’re gonna keep doin, fuck, doin that until I am.”

A moan shivers across his skin as the tongue traces curves and lines, nose bumping him as Indrid puffs shaky exhales across coarse, dark hair. 

“That’s it, no need to be shy darlin.” He uses one hand to hold Indrid in place, the other to pet his hair and caress his cheek. 

“Start givin my dick some love too, yeah, fuck yeah, like that.” 

Indrids eyes flutter open, shining at the praise. When his lips close around his dick Duck hisses, pushes him closer. 

“Fuck” he tips his head back, savoring Indrids muffled moans, his eagerness to please. When he looks back down, Indrids eyes are shut again, his tongue and lips only stopping when he pulls away to breathe. 

“You look so cute, droolin for my dick.”

Indrid whimpers, wiggles in place when Duck pets him again. 

“You still want me to use that sweet little mouth like a toy?” He yanks Indrid back by his hair, forcing him to look up.

“Yes, oh yes, oh please, Duck” He pants, mouth shiny with slick.

“Hands on the bed where I can see ‘em.”

Indrid obeys with a pout, “but, but, all I’ve been dreaming of is getting to touch you.”

Duck smiles softly, “you will sugar, don’t you worry. This is so I know you ain’t gettin off without me sayin you can. Snap twice to make me stop?”

“Uh huh.” 

“Start suckin.” He shoves him back down, groaning when Indrid does as he’s told, tongue lavishing the underside with attention.

“There we go, shit, yeah,” he rolls his hips, Indrid moaning in response, “don’t hold back darlin, wanna hear how much you love it.”

The muffled sounds grow louder, yelps adding to the mix whenever he tugs on that pale hair. He finds an angle of jerking his hips that adds just enough friction, feels his orgasm starting to build. 

He holds Indrids head down as hard as he can, grinding against him. Fingers twist in the sheets, and Duck gives a self-satisfied laugh.

“Godamn, god_damn_, like your mouth was made for this, fuck, sugar, yes” His ass lifts off the bed as he comes, Indrid lapping at him as he traps his head in place so he can finish on his face. 

As soon as he lets go Indrid is rubbing his cheek against his belly and chest with small, submissive whines, doing his best to kiss his body through his shirt. His hands are still flat on the blankets. 

“You did real good, darlin. C’mere.” He scoots backward, making room for Indrid on the bed. Opens his arms so the thinner man can curl up against him. Indrid strokes his body gratefully, hands roaming along his back, his arms, his thighs, as if the other man will never get enough of him.

Duck slips his fingers under the white shirt, tugging it up and off in order to kiss and lick along Indrids chest. 

“I, OH!that, that feels nice, I can’t believe it’s you, that the man Mama kept telling me about was the same man who knew just what to say to make an absolute mess of myself. Texting you was always the best part of my day.”

Duck blushes, nuzzles his neck.

“You make me feel irresistible, a rare experience. When I was bored I’d, I’d daydream about what I was going to send you, what would make you happy.” His hips are wiggling again, rough denim and the hard cock beneath it rubbing against Ducks leg. 

“Knew I was callin you sugar for a reason; you’re sweet as can be” 

Indrid snorts at the attempted joke, smiles contentedly when Duck traces his lips along his cheekbone.

“What would make you happy, sugar?”

“I want to fuck you.” the cock continues rubbing against his thigh as Indrid speaks “I want you to see how good I can be, want to make you feel wonderful, oh Duck, please, won’t you let me?”

Duck’s smile is wolfish.

“Depends on how much you want it.” He rolls all the way onto his back, resting his hands behind his head.

“Can’t you tell?” Indrid grinds down once, hard.

“You don’t seem rarin to go to me.” He replies casually. 

“But I _am_” Indrid rolls his hips again, cock straining in his pants.

“Dunno” Duck cocks his head, “how about you keep doin that and we’ll see.”

Indrid grips the blankets with one hand, moves the other hesitantly until Duck takes it, resting their joined hands on his chest. Indrid huffs in mock frustration, his mouth sets in a resolute line as he grinds determinedly on Ducks leg, stifling his whimpers. He’s doing a magnificent job pretending he isn’t half-crazy with need.

That’ll have to change.

Ever-so-slightly, Duck pushes his thigh up and Indrid moans immediately, moving his hips faster. 

“Aww, ain’t you cute, ruttin on my leg like a damn dog you’re so needy.”

A whine, almost a chirp, jumps from Indrids chest. He pauses, looking surprised. 

“You okay?” Duck sits halfway up.

“Yes. I, um, I’m just learning some interesting things.” He gives a shaky smile and Duck pops up to kiss him once before laying back down.

“In that case, keep goin. Startin to think you really do wanna fuck me.”

A noise that’s half-laugh, half-frustrated groan fills the room as Indrid works his hips harder, damp spreading across the front of his jeans. When he next lifts his head to look at Duck, strands of hair fall across his eyes.

“I’m close, so close. Duck, please, _please_, I want to come in you, I want to be inside you.” His brown eyes are wet with the beginnings of tears, his look so earnest and pleading that Duck almost cracks right there.

Almost.

He presses his thigh up again, drawing it slowly back and forth along the line of Indrids cock.

Indrid gives a little cry, his whole body starting to shake, “Please!”

Duck taps his chin, as if the way Indrids voice tightens with want hasn’t made up his mind for him.

“Alright, I’m convinced. Condoms are in the drawer.” 

Indrid gets off the bed in such a hurry he nearly trips. Duck unbuttons his shirt and tosses it aside, chucking his undershirt after it. Rests against the pillows, spreads his legs so Indrid can kneel between them, getting the condom on with minimal fumbling.

He crawls on top of Duck, pushing in with a moan that’s immediately swallowed by Ducks mouth as he kisses him. When he pulls back they stay nose to nose, and Duck presses a kiss to each cheek. 

Then he glides his hands down Indrids back to grip his ass.

“Got what you wanted sugar, now show me how much you like itAHfuck, there we go sweet thing.”

Indrid’s thrusts frantically, movements shallow and rabbity as he drops his forehead to the pillow.

“Thank you” the whisper is rapid, “thankyouthankyouthankyou.” 

Duck groans, squeezes Indrids ass. Keeps his hands there so he can feel the way his muscles tighten, the impact that ripples across his skin whenever he brings their bodies together . All that effort is for him, because of him, all the product of Indrid wanting desperately to please and be pleased. 

“Fuck, knew your dick’d feel perfect. Already’s the nicest one I’ve had in my mouthOhhhhh, heh, someone likes that.” He teases as Indrid pumps his hips furiously at the compliment, lighting Duck up in all the right ways. 

“Yes, ohgoodness yes, Duck, I’m close, you feel so good, sogood, pleaseplease say I can come in you.” 

“You sure can.”

Indrid comes with a loud moan, words of thanks still piling up on the pillow as his hips stutter once, twice, and then stop. He pulls out panting, looking like he just ran a marathon.

Duck sits up and Indrid mirrors him, sighing happily as Duck brushes his hair back and draws a nail along his collar-bone. 

“Now, that was real nice. But we got a problem.”

Indrid looks worried for the split second it takes him to spot the rakish smile on Ducks face. Then his lips quirk upwards.

“See, you got me all riled up again. That ain’t polite.” Duck moves his hand leisurely along Indrids stomach.

“I’ve been told I'm rather good with my hands.” Indrid continues mirroring him, petting the dark hair on Ducks belly. 

“Ain’t that a coincidence; so am I.” He kisses Indrid just as he drops his hand down to curl around that perfect dick. 

Indrid “mmeeeephs” against Ducks mouth, squirming as he drags his fingers lazily up and down the softening shaft.

“Better start showin me what those hands can do, darlin. Cause I ain’t stoppin this til you do. Uh,” he falters as he realizes how that could sound, “or if you need me to. Ain’t fun if it’s actually hurtin you, I can stop anytime you want”

“Dooont, don’tdon’t” Indrid paws at him, slipping two fingers inside and curling them, “I love it, want you to, ohOHnnhah, use me how you see fit, want to be at your mercy, oh _god_” he rests his head on Ducks shoulder nuzzling the crook of his neck as broken whimpers fill the room. 

Duck wraps his free arm around his shoulder, tightens his grip. Indrid writhes in response, fingers moving more intensely.

“Huh, seems like the meaner I am, the better you fuck me.”

“NnnnnuhAHgoodness yes.” Indrids nails dig into his bicep as he twists along the shaft, savoring every little plaintive whine and moan from his partner. 

When Indrid thumbs his dick he moans so loud they hear him in the building next door.

“Hhhee, I’m not the only one who’s AH, who’s sensitive right now.”

“No shit gorgeous, fuck, sugar, right there, fuck me right there, like thatlikethat_shit_, Indrid.” He releases Indrids dick in favor of embracing him, climax coursing through him to the soundtrack of Indrid’s tender, grateful words.

It’s when his own shudders subside that he notices Indrid is shaking.

“I got you sugar, don’t worry. Think my brain’s short-circuitin but I got you all the same.”

Indrid turns his head, still resting on Ducks shoulder, to smile dreamily at him. 

“Gracious that, that was wonderful Duck.”

Duck kisses his forehead, “Can I buy you lunch now that I’ve fucked your brains out?”

“Only if we order in. I’d very much like to stay in this bed, with you, ideally for the next six months.”

“Don’t think we can pull any Yoko and Lennon shit without gettin canned, but I think we can manage spendin the rest of the day here.”

Indrid flops down onto his side. Something shy and vulnerable flits across his features, and Duck lays next to him, cuddling up against the bony angles of his body. Watches his face carefully.

“You doin alright? Got a kinda spaced-out look.”

“Mmm? Oh, uh, it’s, it’s nothing. Just realizing I hadn’t done that in a long time.”

“Dry spells can be a motherfucker.” Duck takes Indrids hand, flips it over so he can kiss the lines of his palm.

“It's not exactly that. I, submitting, letting a partner tease and humiliate me, they used to be my favorite things in bed. But I had a partner who, well, got good at using them to hurt me. He’d mock me about things he knew I was insecure about, took to calling me needy in and out of the bedroom, never showed me that he cared about me in the midst of it.”

“Indrid…” A little crack forms in Ducks heart at the thought of Indrid laid vulnerable with someone who didn’t see it for the gift it was. 

“After I left him, I stopped exploring those things. First because they reminded me of him. Then I convinced myself I could never do them without getting hurt. Steered clear of them with other partners I trusted”

“Shit, Indrid, that first time-”

“When you brought little bits of them in when we where in that bathroom, it confused me because I wasn’t panicked by them. Something about you, the way you treated me even in those fifteen minutes in the bar before we snuck off, I felt so safe. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone torment me, make me beg and blush, without ever making me doubt they cared about me. When we started texting, I noticed it more; You were sweet even when you were making me obey. I suppose what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being you.”

Duck is speechless for just long enough that worry creeps back across Indrids features.

“I, I’m sorry, that was too much information, you don’t even know if you want to be with me and here I am bringing us down in the afterglo-oh” He sighs when Duck kisses him tenderly.

“Ain’t got anythin to apologize for, sugar. I’m glad you trust me, and I’m real fuckin happy we line up so well in what we like in bed. But if you ever need me to ease off, all you gotta do is say so.”

Indrids' smile lights up the whole room, enchanting even as his stomach growls.

“I’ll order us lunch. Figurin you know The Lodge since you know Mama and Barclay, you got a go-to on the menu?”

“Grilled cheese and the largest slice of pie they can fit in the box.”

“Roger that” he kisses Indrids nose, hops out of be “be right back.”

\---------------------------------------

By the time the doorbell rings, they’ve both cleaned up and Indrid is curled up on the couch in Ducks bathrobe. 

“Hey Duck.”

“Howdy Jake,” he takes the bag full of carry out containers, sets on the counter and grabs his wallet, “Here, this oughta cover it. Don’t need the change, figure that’s your tip.”

“Nice, thanks dude!” Jake grins at him, then waves over his shoulder, “Hey Indrid!”

“Hello Jake” Indrid smiles pleasantly, waving back.

“See you dudes around!” Jake bounds down the stairs as Duck shuts the door.

“Whelp, everyone at the lodge’ll know we hooked up.” He nabs silverware from the drawer, sits down with Indrids feet in his lap.

“I suppose it was inevitable that they would. They’re basically my family.”

Duck stirs his soup, “How’d you come to be Mama’s son, anyway? She said she adopted you real late.”

“She was my neighbor growing up. My parents were none to pleased when I came out. Mama did what she could to look after me, but she was barely making ends meet and couldn't take me in. Not to mention my parents didn’t want me, but were unwilling to let me live with someone who did. I left home the morning I turned 18. Kept in touch with Mama. She said as far as she was concerned, I was her son and I could always come to her for help. Fell in with my ex, the one I mentioned, who treated me badly.” He spears a stray piece of apple from his pie, “Mama was there for me when I left him. It was around then that we decided she should figure out some way to formally “adopt” me, even if it was strange to do it so late.” 

If Duck thought highly of Mama before, he thinks doubly so of her now. 

Indrid offers a sheepish smile, “I promise I have parts of my life that aren’t quite so grim.”

“Hey, not everyone gets a life that’s sunshine and rainbows and shit. But Indrid?”

Indrid cocks his head, all his attention on Duck.

“I wanna get to know you, grim parts and all. If you want to, I’d be okay with takin things to the next level.”

“Why, Duck Newton, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

Duck leans over, kisses him on the cheek, “Damn right I am, sugar.”


	3. I'll Take Care of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid does something he hasn't tried in a long time.

_The Secretary Bird, having spotted its prey, proceeds to lift it’s powerful legs and stomp upon the snake, in what can only be described as violent flamenco dance. The birds armored legs protect it from the strikes of the snake.”_

“Damn, ain’t that somethin sugar?” Duck strokes Indrids hair, the taller mans head resting in his lap as they watch the documentary.

“Mhhmm.” Indrid manages through grit teeth.

“Aww, you feelin put-out?”

“Not in the slightest.” Indrid manages a coy grin in his direction. Duck pats his head, clicks the remote in his hand

Indrid yelps, wriggles on the couch as the vibrating plug switches to a new tempo.

“Somethin you wanna say?” Duck asks mildly.

“N-nothing at all.” Indrid flashes him another grin, nestles closer. 

They’ve been in this standoff for an hour. Duck’s impressed that Indrid is managing to out-stubborn him.

It began when, while celebrating New Years, Indrid confided in Duck that he missed being what he referred to as “difficult” in bed (“I used to say bratty but, well, I had that word used against me too many times). Duck’d suggested that they work up to it so they could gauge their comfort levels and then, as a Valentines present to themselves, set aside a day for Indrid to be a thorn in Ducks side and face the consequences. 

Indrid started as soon as they woke up, grinding against Duck as they spooned in bed, kissing his neck until he was soaking his sweatpants. Then he darted out of bed and into the shower, leaving Duck growling in frustration. 

By the time he’d finished his own shower, Indrid was in the kitchen, handing Duck his coffee with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Duck reciprocated, but after the kiss he paused, lips next to Indrids ear.

“You’re on thin fuckin ice, sugar.”

He sat at the kitchen island, drinking his coffee and reading a magazine, and Indrid started up again, massaging his shoulders, purring sweet nothings in his ear. This time, when he tried to scurry away, Duck saw it coming and pulled him into a bear hug, kissing him furiously as he shoved him against the counter. 

“You stay bent over with your hands on the counter til i get back.”

Of course, he’d returned two minutes later to his boyfriend lounging on the sofa. After pinning him to the couch, he yanked his pajama pants down, fingering him open until he could slip the plug inside, Indrid laughing into the cushions at Ducks fond grumbling.

Which lead them to their current position; Duck teasing and tormenting Indrid with the vibrator until the other man begs to be fucked and says he’s sorry.

He clicks up to the highest intensity, a soft thwump reaching him when Indrid kicks the arm of the sofa in surprise. 

“Nnnnh!”

“Think I’m gonna keep it at that one.”

“You w-wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, sugar.”

Indrid cocks his head, blinking thoughtfully behind his lenses. Kisses his hip once.

“Duck….” His voice is syrupy. 

“Yeah?”

“Won’t you please fuck me?” He turns his head, nudging the waistband of his sweatpants with his nose.

“You know I want to, but that’s only one part of how you gotta ask.”

“I don’t need to say that other part. I can just show you my apology.” His hands slip under Ducks shirt as he spreads kisses along his belly.

“Mmmm, that’s real temptin. If you keep bein good, I’ll fuck you after this episodeOW, oh you fuckin little.” He yanks Indrid back by his hair, the thinner man laughing hysterically. There’s now a bite mark under his belly button, and ten red marks down his chest from where Indrid scratched him. Indrid manages another set of them before Duck wrestles him to the floor, the ranger laughing against his shoulder even as grinds down on his cock, making him keen.

“Y’know, coulda gotten exactly what you wanted, easy.”

“Yes, but where's the fun in that.” Indrid grins at him, an expression that widens when Duck pulls down his pink and yellow pajama pants. 

“I’m horny as fuck from your teasin, so you’re gonna get half of what you wanted. I'm gonna fuck you, get myself off on that nice dick. But you ain’t comin any time soon.” He reaches into his pocket, producing a cock ring (silver, to match Indrids hair).

He slips the ring into place, and shuts off the vibrator. Pulls his pants off, tossing them somewhere on the other side of the couch. 

“You don’t come _that_ fast, sweetheart-OH, ohgod, Duck, yesyesyes.” He grips the front of Ducks shirt, trying to pull him closer as Duck sinks down on his dick. The ranger wastes no time, works his hips purposefully.

“Here’s the thing” he bends down, kissing Indrid hard and pinning his hands in place with his own, “you’re gonna tell me if you’re gettin close. You don’t” he bites his shoulder, Indrid gasping and arching his back off the floor, “you ain’t touchin me for the rest of the day.”

“I suppose I, oh goodness, must comply. I do so love touching you.” Indrid works his right hand loose so he can drag it along Ducks side, down to his thighs and ass. 

Duck sucks a hickey into his neck, and Indrid purrs, scratching him sweetly. He adores this, the way Indrid twitches and moans beneath him when he fucks him like this, the sound of skin hitting skin under the whir of the heater. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s only a minute or so until Indrid whimpers against his mouth, “close.”

Duck pulls off, doing his best to hide his reluctance, dropping his hand down to work his dick rapidly. Indrid grabs his ass, trying without success to coax him back into fucking him. Duck leans back in his grip, savoring the reverence in his touch while denying him any chance of stimulation.

“Better get your fill of feelin me up sugar.”

“I’m not sure I could.” Indrid’s eyes are fixed on Ducks fingers as he jacks off, “you feel so wonderful under my hands, please, please let me keep fu-”

“You know what you gotta say to make that happen, fuck, _shit_, and you better say it fast.”

Indrid “hmphs” as imperiously, even as his cock strains up in search of Ducks body.

“Your, fuck, your loss, ohyeah, fuck yeah.” He bites his lip, eyes squeezing shut with a groan as he comes. As it washes over him, kisses flutter across his fingers as Indrid takes his hand. The taller man sighs into his palm. 

“Shall I beg some more, my sweet?” He murmurs softly.

God, Duck had never known bedroom eyes until he saw Indrid looking at him in these moments, gaze heavy with affection and hazy with lust.

“Nah,” He stands up, stretching his arms and padding over to his discarded pants, “I gotta go run an errand.”

“Ohhh” Indrid nods with understanding as he sits up, wiggling his pants back on and hissing when they pull over his cock “are you going to make me walk around the store with the plug in? Make me feel like everyone can see how hard I am? See if you can make me break and drop to my knees in some discreet corner?”

“Nope.”

Indrid arches an eyebrow and Duck sends him a smug grin; the other man is unusually perceptive, often does accurately guess Ducks plans.

Not this time. 

“Wait here.” He gives Indrid his sternest look, then heads to the bedroom

\--------------------------------------

Indrid assumes Duck didn’t men for him to wait on the floor, and so he settles in the big, squishy armchair that Duck has taken to calling his. Which, he supposes, is fair given that’s the spot he curls up whenever he’s drawing and it has his favorite blanket draped over the back.

He’s positive Duck has something intense planned; so far he hasn’t tried anything particularly mean in response to Indrids teasing, which is counter to what they discussed. 

The look on Ducks face when he comes back into the living room, zipping up his winter coat, confirms this hunch.

“Hands behind you sugar.”

Indrid obeys instantly. Duck kneels in front of him, producing a pair of purple, leather handcuffs. Indrid adores the way Duck puts them on, the care he takes to secure them just right, the way he runs his thumb just below them when he finishes each hand, as if he can’t believe Indrid is letting him do this. 

When he’s finished, Duck sets Indrids phone on the chair next to him.

“In case I need to ask you anythin while I’m gone. Turned on the speech function so you don’t need to worry about typin.”

“You really are just going to leave me here.” Arousal spikes through his stomach and up into his chest. 

Duck runs his fingers through Indrids hair, “Yep. You be good, stay put, and don't come, and I might just fuck you when I get back. Assumin” his hold tightens and Indrid moans, “you fuckin apologize for bein such a pain when I get back.”

“We shall see. I can hold out a long time.”

“I seen that first hand, which is why I might be gone for awhile.”

Indrid’s eyes widen. Just how long is Duck planning to leave him? He won’t abandon him all day, will he?

Duck must see the trepidation cross his face, because he kneels once more and puts his hands together to form a “T”

“Hey, time out for a sec. I’m only gonna be down on the corner at Leo's. If you need to stop this, use the quick release on the cuffs and text me. I can be back in thirty seconds, assumin I don’t slip and fall on my ass on the ice.”

“Thank you, that actually makes me feel much better.”

“And I ain't gonna leave you here forever. Can’t stand the thought of goin that long without seein your face.”

“Sap.” Indrid grins softly.

“Hey.”

“What? I learned that from you.” 

“That you did.” Duck kisses him tenderly, then stands up.

“Alright, I’ll be back. You be good now.”

And then he’s out the door and into the cold grey of the late winter morning. 

Indrid nestles down into the chair. The apartment is warm and cozy, his eyelids a bit heavy from staying up late the night before working on a new set of illustrations. Maybe his best bet is to cat nap until Duck returns. 

Just as his head hits the cushions, he shrieks in surprise. The plug is vibrating again, pulses of agonizing pleasure bursting up his spine.

What the hell?

_Ding_

He looks at his phone, trying to shift so his body weight can’t put extra pressure on the plug.

_Duck: You want any candy? Bunch is half-off._

“Yes, please.” Indrid says to the phone, his breathing coming down from the shock. Maybe he accidentally turned the toy on himself.

The pattern changes. 

“Duck, did you leave the remote somewhere?”

_Duck: You want to watch something while I’m out?_

Indrid huffs, “Not that remote.”

_Duck: Left the one for the toy in the bedroom. Not like I need it. We bought the fancy one that came with an app, remember?_

The tempo changes to sharper vibrations in a more erratic sequence and Indrid growls. 

_Duck: Guess it works ;)_

Indrid stamps his foot on the floor when it changes again, this time to the pattern that brought him closest to coming untouched last time; two short vibrations, then one long

“Motherfucker” he breathes out

_Ding_

_Duck: Rude_

Oh no, he thought the phone wouldn’t pick that up

The intensity of the vibration kicks up several notches, sending pre-cum spreading across the front of his pants.

“It was autocorrect.” He pants

_Duck: Lying won’t help your case, sugar_

Another increase in strength. There must be some sort of “randomize” button on Ducks end because it’s cycling through quickly and unpredictably and Indrid knows that without the ring he'd be a goner.

Then, mercifully, it all stops. He counts his shaky breaths to calm himself, tentatively adjusts in his seat.

The vibrations start on high this time and his wrists twist in the cuffs

“Oh GOD.”

_Duck: That ain’t who you got to ask for mercy._

_Duck: Anything you want to say?_

Indrid remains resolutely silent, pressing his face against the soft, sun-faded fabric of the chair to stifle his cries. After a moment, another text comes through.

_Duck: Suit yourself._

Indrid can hear the shrug in those words, Duck feigning nonchalance in spite of how turned on he must be.

Over the next half hour, Indrid attempt various strategies to keep from breaking. He tries ignoring it, but abandons that plan after a mere two minutes. Then he gives into the feelings, kicks his legs over one arm of the chair, rests his head on the other and lets the pleasure course through him like unending waves on a seashore. That works until his body is too aroused, the cock ring keeping him from release and making him weep with frustrated want. 

Finally, he surrenders to his fate, swearing an oath to himself, the room, and a disinterested Winnie when she wanders by, that he will not give Duck the satisfaction of apologizing for teasing him.

And then Duck opens the door. 

\----------------------------

Duck has seen many stunning things in his life; the way the sunrise looks on the tallgrass prairie, the way his friend Aubrey smiles when she’s pulled off a particularly impressive magic trick. 

But nothing is quite as breathtaking as the sight of Indrid Cold, laying crosswise on the chair, twitching his hips uselessly at the ceiling while pathetic, broken moans fill the air. 

Some part of him wants to fawn over Indrid, sits by his side and tell him how beautiful he looks, how he’s been so good, how Duck adores him. 

Instead, he sets his bags on the counter and unpacks, chatting as he does.

“Sorry, got held up talkin to Leo. Good news is he had some of the weird, blue cream soda you like.” He opens the fridge, sliding the bottles in. 

“That’s, that’s nice.” Indrid pants. 

“Got waffle mix too, figured we could do those savory ones for dinner.” As he reaches into the second bag he pulls out his phone, swipes it open, and hits a button on one, specific app.

“SHIT!” Indrid nearly falls out of the chair, and Duck snorts, turning his back to finish putting away the groceries. 

“Damn, you’re swearin up a storm today.”

“Duck, _please_.” Indrids glasses have slipped halfway down his nose, and Duck can see tears forming in his eyes. 

“Please and…”

“And anything. I’ll, I’ll do anything you wish.” he’s twisting, trying to right himself into a sitting position, “let you fuck my face every morning before work, only touch myself when you’re there to watch, only, only…” his words die out as Duck shuts off the toy, crosses the room and stands in front of him. 

The ranger reaches down, pushing his glasses back up.

“Those are all real pretty promises.” He crosses his arms “but that ain’t what I’m after. And you got ten seconds to say what you need to, or I’m headin into the bedroom and leavin you here.”

“Wait!” Indrid surges forward, clearly forgetting his hands are still bound. Duck drops to his knees to catch him , feels every fiber of his form shaking in his arms as he whimpers against Ducks neck. 

“‘M sorry, sorry, I’ll b-behave, I’ll be good, oh god, please, I need you, I’ll be good, I’m sorry for being difficult, please fuck me” 

Duck unclips him and his arms around him immediately. Pauses a moment, wanting Indrid to have the chance to safeword before he moves things forward. Instead, the thinner man presses apologetic kisses to his neck and shoulder with shuddering but happy sighs. 

“There, was that so hard?” Duck leans back to study Indrids face, tucking his hair behind his ears or brushing it up his forehead so he can once again see his eyes. 

Indrid shakes his head, gazing at Duck hopefully. 

Gingerly, Duck eases Indrids pants down and off, scooching on his belly so he can kisses the insides of his legs, inch by perfect inch. When he’s done, he starts on his own clothes.

“You can take the ring off.”

Indrid whines as he removes it, tosses it away with more force than strictly necessary. The he goes slack-jawed as he watches Duck slowly remove the plug he’s been wearing during his errands. 

“I knew you's give eventually, and I wanted to be prepared. Fuck, you’re so fuckin cute like this, sugar. All ruined lookin,” he straddles him “finally rememberin who’s in charge.” He sinks his ass down on his favorite dick in the world with a groan.

Indrid curls around him as best he can, frantically kissing his neck and face. As soon as Duck starts moving, a steady stream of gratitude is pouring from the other man.

“Yesyesyes_yes_, thankyou, thankOH, thank you, Duck, you’re wonderful, so good to me, thank you, oh goodness, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m not going to last.”

“Then come for me, sugar.”

All it takes is one more shift of Ducks hips and Indrid does exactly that, a wordless, weak cry coming from him as he pulses inside him. 

Duck pulls off, but stays in his lap.

“You did so good darlin, you’re so good for me, I love you so much sugar, I’m right here, I gotcha.” This last part is in response to Indrid slumping against him. Duck tilts his chin up with one finger, “you with me, Indrid?”

“Uh huh.” this time he flops his full weight on him, sending them both onto the floor with a thunk.

“Oops” Indrid giggles, cuddling closer to Duck. 

“Was, uh, was that what you wanted?”

“And then some. Goodness, I’d forgotten just how much I liked that kind of scene.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Are you alright? That wasn't too much?”

“I'm peachy keen, sugar.” He kisses his cheek “though we oughta shower soon.”

“....can we use that shower jelly that smells like honeycomb?”

Duck bumps their noses together. 

“Of course.”

\-------------------------------

_Sugar: Can I show you an illustration?_

_Duck: Course. This that super secret one you ain’t been able to tell me about?_

_Sugar: Yes_

An image comes through and then Duck is looking at his own face in black and white. The drawing is of him sitting on a log, pointing at something out of frame, the image clearly done from the perspective of someone sitting beside him. The expression on his face is lovingly rendered, the details perfect down the patches on his jacket. 

_Sugar: What do you think?_

_Duck: Think it’s the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. After you, of course._

_Sugar: Sap._

Duck smiles.

_Duck: I love you too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there's no a second story set in this universe! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606426


End file.
